Reckless Scotland: A Scottish Medieval Romance Bundle

by Victoria Vane

  Searching her gaze, he tilted his head a fraction. “You wish to break our arrangement.”

  Mairi could not help but gape at Patrick. “How? How did you know?”

  He tossed his head back, emitting a rich, lilting laughter that accentuated the sinews of his corded neck. He tapped her nose before letting his hand fall at his side. “I’m a man, Mairi. I recognize the look of a woman in love when I see it.” He smiled fondly. “It suits you. ’Tis unfortunate that I could not be the recipient of such a look from you. But, ’tis my own fault for not properly wooing you as you deserved.”

  For a moment, she stood rooted to the ground at her feet in stunned disbelief. She’d anticipated many things from Patrick when she expressed her wishes to not wed him. Namely, anger and a sliver of hurt. Though, she was unprepared for the glimmer of regret in his warm gaze.

  She frowned in confusion. “But, I thought you might be wroth with me.”

  “Nay, of course not,” he assured her. “Mayhap, a bit disappointed that our arrangement did not work out. In truth, I had my share of doubts. ’Twas not as if I presented you the most appealing of offers when I approached you. That is a failing of mine that I must live with. In time, I hope you may forgive my offense.”

  His kind words warmed her heart. “I am as much to blame. I should’ve spoken of my concerns before blindly agreeing. I fear I could never be the type woman you truly deserve.”

  Pacing a step closer, a solemn glint entered his shining eyes. “Do not discount your appeal, Mairi. You are everything a man like me desires. Beauty, intelligence, a bold, fiery character. I sincerely hope MacRae realizes the prize he’s captured in you.”

  Staring at his attractive features, she might’ve easily fallen under Patrick’s spell. For the first time in days, a laugh slipped from her throat.

  “You know, had you plied your charms earlier, mayhap, we would not find ourselves in this situation,” she teased. “Remember your pretty speech before you approach the next lass.”

  He laughed at her jest, though the humor did not quite extend to his eyes. “I’m afraid there might not be another.”

  The statement bothered her. She nudged his arm. “Do not speak such drivel. You’re a decent man, Patrick. With a pleasing countenance, if I say so myself. You shall have no trouble snaring a fine woman to match.” A notion struck her. “You should host a banquet and invite a few hand-picked clan chieftains with their eligible daughters.”

  “’Tis not a terrible idea. Mayhap, I shall follow your suggestion.”

  Gripping his wrist, she squeezed. “Thank you for understanding.”

  Humor fled from his features as he leaned closer. He tipped his head, brushing his lips over hers in a chaste but lingering kiss. When he drew away from her, he licked his lips as his playful smile slid in place once more.

  “I wish you every happiness, Mairi.” His fingers grazed her cheek. “If MacRae does not appreciate you as you deserve, seek me out. I assure you, I shall not let such a prize slip through my hands again.”

  With a parting wink, he turned away from her and ambled toward the stable entrance in the same unaffected manner as he’d entered.

  The breath Mairi held hissed out of her in a gush of air. Saints, were her heart not firmly planted in Aaron’s hands, mayhap, she might’ve reconsidered the decision to end her arrangement with Patrick.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “GO AWAY, CONNOR,” Aaron ground out.

  “I cannot believe you’re still not speaking to me.” Shielding his eyes from the midday sun with his hand, his brother peered up at him. “A fortnight has passed, for Christ’s sake.”

  He grasped hold of his nearly tapped patience. Otherwise, he might’ve hurled the hammer in his hands at the lad. Instead, he beat the tacking into the timber planks of the cottage roof he’d spent the morning repairing.

  “Nay, now go away, damn it!”

  Disregarding his brother altogether, Aaron focused solely on the task at hand. With such strong winds along the coast throughout the year, he’d decided to replace most of the straw thatching with sturdier wattle and daub roofing. ’Twas a time-consuming chore that was long overdue. But, his father had given no thought to the clan’s welfare, much less if the MacRaes had a dry place to lay their heads each night.

  Truth be told, Aaron was grateful for the work. ’Twas the only thing keeping his troubling thoughts at bay as of late. In the past fortnight since Mairi’s departure, he’d thrown himself into work around the holding, hoping to toil himself into a state of exhausted oblivion. At least, for a short while, until nightfall, when he fell into a restless slumber each eve and Mairi invaded his dreams. Though his anger had since dissipated, the pain in his chest remained. No matter how he tried, he could not banish the woman from his thoughts. Mayhap, he never would.

  Alas, life dragged on, with or without him. Despite how he missed her or his heartache, he refused to return to the same selfish behavior he’d affected the entire year. However, ’twas a mercy his clan had given him a wide berth the last fortnight. His mood sorely lacked any measure of politeness.

  “Come on, Aaron. How much longer are you going to ignore me?” Connor beckoned from below where Ash darted back and forth around his legs, chasing bits of loose straw the wind scattered over the ground.

  For the love of God, would the lad never cease his damned badgering? Between his brother and Niall, the two never spared Aaron a moment’s peace. Hell, if he truly wished to forget Mairi, ’twas impossible with the pair’s constant reminders.

  Regardless of his cooling temper where his brother was concerned, he’d refrained from speaking to Connor aside from a handful of words. Of course, that had not deterred the young man in the least. His brother was relentless in his pursuits to draw him from his piss-poor mood.

  “I’ll speak to you when I’m damned well ready to,” Aaron growled.

  Dropping his arm at his side, Connor huffed an exasperated sigh. “Christ, why the devil are you such a stubborn arse?”

  Aaron scoffed, “You mean, like you?”

  “Who do you suppose I learned from?” Connor shot back. Shaking his head, he reached inside his mantle and retrieved a folded slip of parchment. “Here, I have something for you.”

  His curiosity grudgingly piqued, Aaron leaned back from the roof covering he tacked to the timber planks, balancing himself on the rafters. “What is it?”

  With a solemn countenance, Connor peered at the missive in his hand. “’Tis from Mairi.”

  At once, Aaron’s heart leaped in his chest, the stuttered pace tripping over several beats. Were his feet not firmly lodged against the timbers, he might’ve toppled from the roof, head first.

  “She asked me to deliver this when I thought the time was right.” Connor frowned up at Aaron. “In truth, I question if the time shall ever be right, so I’m honoring her wish.”

  Aaron merely sat in stunned disbelief as he digested his brother’s words. She’d left him a letter?

  Shaking off his stupor, he itched to read the contents. With shaky hands, he grabbed hold of the eaves on the side of the cottage and moved his legs to dangle down the wall. With a firm grip, he twisted his body and managed to lower himself enough to drop to his feet on the ground near Connor. He reached for the missive but paused long enough to wipe his filthy hands on his braies, unwilling to soil the parchment.

  As he accepted the missive, a slight tremor passed through his hand. “Have you read it?”

  Connor shook his head. “’Tis meant for you, not me. Are you angry that I did not give it to you sooner?”

  Aaron glanced at his brother. “Nay, of course not.”

  In truth, his brother had made a sound decision to wait and present the letter. Otherwise, Aaron feared he might’ve done something entirely foolish had Connor given him the missive the day Mairi departed. Such as toss it in the hearth to burn to ash.

  “Thank you.” He lifted the letter by way of explanation.

  Connor nodde
d. “I’ll leave you to your privacy.”

  Without another word, the lad tucked his mantle tighter around his shoulders and ambled toward the keep, leaving Aaron to his solitude for a change.

  A desperate urge to know the contents overcame Aaron. Grasping the parchment in a steely grip, he strode with purpose to the front of the courtyard and through the front gates. Outside of the walls, he continued onward until he neared the bluff overlooking the beach and churning sea below. He found an adequate seat amongst one of the many outcroppings of stone that jutted up from the surrounding land.

  For several long moments, he studied his name written in a flourishing script across the front. A faint smile lifted his lips. Even the woman’s hand was as bold as her character. With a steady blend of apprehension and eagerness alike, he exhaled a breath and unfolded the parchment to read the contents of her letter.

  With slow precision, he took his time reading line for line, absorbing every gut-wrenching word. She’d written of her agreement with MacEwan, explaining the situation Aaron had profusely refused to listen to. She wrote of her fears of growing old and alone while remaining a burden to her kin, and of her true intent to never follow through with the match to MacEwan, solely because of undeniable love for him. She confessed to living with the hope each day of the last year that he would come for her.

  Alas, Aaron never did. He hung his head as the truth of her written word crashed over him like the ceaseless waves below. As he read the rest of her touching letter, memorizing every bold stroke of ink, tears burned behind his eyes. Never once did she reprimand him for his insensitive treatment of her or his unreasonable, reprehensible behavior. Instead, she professed her love and how her heart would always remain his. Her words nearly slew him.

  His sweet, passionate Mairi had, yet again, proven how truly undeserving he was of her. How, in the name of God, could he have let his lass go?

  Folding the parchment, he clutched the missive tight in his fist. He peered out at the agitated sea, watching the waves batter the jagged rocks in the shallows in angry discord. The same manner of dissonance pummeled his chest, reminding him of what an utter arse he’d been. He’d freely allowed her to walk away. Hell, he’d practically pushed her on her way.

  There was no disputing the fact he loved the woman. The God’s honest truth was he’d love Mairi with his dying breath. ’Twas naught conceivable in existence that would change that fact. Though, one part of her letter resounded through him with a jarring ring. Never once had he come for her.

  Before her reappearance in his life, ’twas doubtful if he would’ve. He’d never felt worthy enough to deserve her. For more than a year, he’d weltered in a misery of his own damned choosing while losing sight of everything that mattered most—his clan, his brother, Mairi. ’Twas cold comfort but one definitive truth remained—his love for her never wavered. Even after her revelation concerning MacEwan and the folly of his decision to send her away, his love held fast.

  But, his poor Mairi…

  In tireless efforts, she’d demonstrated her love for him at every turn, despite the turmoil he heaped upon her time and time again. She’d demanded naught of him, while he had never yielded anything unless forced or backed into a corner. How could the lass have such faith in the intensity of his ardor when he’d not shown her proof of his devotion?

  Niall’s sage advice echoed in the forefront of his mind. He could not continue the same course. Otherwise, he risked losing the one and only love of his life. ’Twas an unacceptable fate Aaron could no longer bear.

  In fact, he refused.

  Far too long he’d sat idly by, wasting precious time that he and Mairi could’ve been together. He’d permitted his own selfish stubbornness to dictate his actions, causing his lass a wealth of hurt and doubt she should not have had to endure.

  But, he was a selfish man. Far too selfish a man to ever let her go. He may never truly deserve Mairi but, God, he would spend the rest of his life trying.

  Instilled with a renewed determination, Aaron launched to his feet. With a clipped pace, he strode across the rocky terrain to the front gate, fashioning a plan of action along the way. Not that he truly had one. Especially when that one large, crucial detail remained, blocking his path to Mairi.

  How the devil was he to get past MacGregor?

  Saints, ’twas a mercy Aaron still drew breath at that point. He couldn’t descend on the man’s door and demand Mairi’s hand in marriage.

  As soon as he cut the corner, passing through the gate to enter the courtyard, his step faltered. A few yards ahead, Connor stood with Niall, both men’s gazes locked on him.

  His brother motioned to the parchment Aaron had almost crushed in his haste. “Well?”

  Bemused, he narrowed his eyes. “Well, what? How long have the pair of you waited here?”

  “Since I gave you the letter,” Connor stated with an air of irritation.

  Niall blurted in a gruff growl, “Are you going after the woman or not?”

  “What if I were?” Aaron asked with genuine curiosity.

  His brother snorted. “About damned time, I would say.”

  With a quirk of his lips, Niall shrugged. “You’re making the biggest mistake of your life if you do not.”

  A grin stretched over Aaron’s mouth. “The two of you have the right of it.”

  Connor released a loud whoop that resounded through the courtyard, while Niall cuffed Aaron’s shoulder. His brother rushed forward, catching him in a hearty embrace.

  “Mayhap, I should’ve given you the missive sooner.”

  Aaron thwacked his brother’s back. “Nay, you chose wisely.” As he released Connor, he darted a glance at Niall. “I still have her brother to worry over.”

  Frowning, his friend grunted. “I could see MacGregor posing a problem.”

  “I shall speak to him,” Connor volunteered. “The whole affair was my fault to begin with.”

  Aaron tossed an incredulous stare at his brother. “Nay, you shall not. If anything, I need you to stay with the clan while I’m gone.”

  “Do you wish to send a messenger ahead to announce your arrival?” Niall suggested.

  Aaron said, “I hardly think that shall lessen the sting. I intend to go on my own.”

  Niall shook his head. “I’ll travel with you.”

  “Nay, my friend, I—”

  “Does not matter.” Niall lifted his broad chin. “I’m going with you.”

  “When do you plan to depart?” Connor asked.

  “Just after nightfall.” Aaron reasoned with a half-night’s ride, he should arrive in the morn.

  “I’ll arrange our horses and food from the kitchens.” With a tip of his head, Niall lumbered toward the stables.

  Connor peered at Aaron with a dubious stare. “Are you certain you are up for the task of facing MacGregor? The man’s a rather imposing figure.”

  “Aye, I’m well aware.” He’d rather face a pack of hungry wolves than MacGregor, but what other choice was there? None, if he wanted to reach Mairi. The only way to accomplish the feat was to charge headlong into her brother and hope for the best.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  THE MIDMORNING SUN stretched higher in the cloudless blue sky as Aaron waited on horseback with Niall outside the MacGregor walls. Gusts of chilled wind numbed his face and hands, but he made no bid to move. For the past half-hour, he’d stared steadily across the clearing at the closed gate, heedless of the villagers who’d stepped out of their cottages to gather on the outskirts of the surrounding settlement.

  None of the MacGregors spoke a word to either him or Niall. Instead, they exchanged eager glances and whispers amongst themselves. No doubt, the clan anticipated their laird’s wrath every bit as much as Aaron.

  Once the front gate rose with a foreboding clang of iron and shifting gears, his trepidation grew by leaps and bounds. Within moments, the large, bulky form of Calum MacGregor stalked outside the courtyard, flanked by two men. Aaron recognized them as the
man’s cousin, Liam, and his commander, Symon. If he hoped for a warm reception, their daunting countenances and drawn weapons dissuaded Aaron of the notion.

  After a long, swift ride through the eve, Aaron shook off the fog of exhaustion and released a deep rush of air. He gripped the hilt of the sword at his side, hoping with all his might he’d not have to use the blasted thing.

  “Are you even certain you remember how to wield a damned sword?”

  Craning his neck, he met Niall’s sidelong stare with a dark look of his own. “Of course, I do.”

  Though, in truth, misgivings lingered in his mind. He’d not handled a blade in almost a year, aside from building furniture. He was every bit as capable with a sword as most, but his skill had no doubt suffered without a lick of practice. His best prospect leaned toward MacGregor not outright killing him on sight. After a quick glance across the clearing at the bullish man, the possibility of his death seemed more than likely.

  Aaron removed his mantle, slinging the cloak over the pommel of his saddle, and moved to dismount his gelding. For several moments, he lingered at his horse’s side long enough to gain his legs. Every inch of his stiff body screamed in protest as he straightened his spine.

  “I’ll join you,” Niall volunteered.

  “Nay, stay here.” Over the saddle, he met his friend’s worried gaze. “I need to do this alone.”

  “I cannot protect you from here, Aaron.”

  “’Tis not your place to, old friend. This is my battle. Hold firm and watch yourself,” he ordered, disregarding Niall’s glower of disapproval.

  You do this for Mairi. He repeated those words over and over in his head, bolstering his waning confidence. Swallowing his bout of nerves, he rolled the tightness from his neck and shoulders and spun on his heel to face MacGregor, who’d paused midway across the clearing with the two men at his sides.

  With a self-assured nod, he grasped the hilt of his longsword and began the uneasy march forward. As he drew nearer, MacGregor’s scarred features twisted with an imposing scowl. His icy blue stare locked on Aaron, carefully watching every slight movement. The big man’s grip tightened around the drawn sword at his side.